Otter Creek Lonely Rivers

Speaking of lonely, the solo male walks, and walks, and walks always by himself. Or.. ever since he left his pack to search for paradise. Somewhere his family will finally be able to be safe and live peaceful lives. It’s a constant thought within him, among others of course. So he finds himself following a stream north, nowhere in particular in mind, merely just lets the running water lead him.

The day is fair and he finds himself absentmindedly smiling as the sunlight–a touch warmer than usual–soaks into his coat. Striding only a foot away from the twinkling water he looks down into it. What does he see? The amazing picture of a potential full belly, if he can catch it that is. Oh, how horrible he still somehow is at catching fish out of water. He’s never been able to understand why he can’t do it, but the task seems impossible.

He shrugs at is apparent lack of skill at fishing and trots into the shallow of the water. His golden eyes watch the enthralling movement of the liquid, seeing the scales of fish glimmering along with the sparkling water of the stream.

How beautiful. He fleetingly thinks. Then he pounces, mouth only succeeding in snapping together in failure. The fish isn’t lost to his eyes and he chases it. It swims for its life through the shallows and deeps and Dakota almost found himself swimming at a brief point.

So distracted he doesn’t notice the other wolf he’s approaching at deadly speeds. Paws flying out, teeth snapping, hardly able to breath, water in his eyes havin’ self and he doesn’t even see the poor girl.